When In Rome
by Arya24601
Summary: After breaking off her engagement, Amelia Kirkland flees to Paris, only to accept an invitation to go to Rome. With a complete stranger. An attractive, male, French stranger. Combine that with a constantly grumpy Italian, a blonde German, and pasta... Well, it turns out not be the vacation Amelia was expecting. Fem!EnglandxFrance.


The city of Paris was everything I, Amelia Kirkland, had expected. Immense, clamorous and - above all else- enormously _French_. Call me a Brit to the core, but I preferred the meandering streets of London to the cramped roads of the city. But that's not to say I utterly despised French culture. On the contrary, I loved certain aspects of it, despite their arrogant culinary views and general 'French-ness'. I glanced down at my watch. I had a meeting with a new author in two hours and definitely did _not _want to be late.

Not that the only reason for my trip was a conveniently timed business meeting. No, there was a much bigger reason that I was practically _fleeing_ my country. Back at my flat in London was my fiance; well, ex-fiance now. Though I seriously that Alfred was still there. After our fight, in which Alfred had called me some very insulting names and told me he never wanted to see me again, I wasn't really expecting a welcoming party once, if I ever, got the guts to return home.

Things had been going so well, and then… At first I didn't believe him, but once his golden engagement ring had been wrenched off and thrown angrily at my feet, I finally understood that he was dead serious. I had packed the things I needed for the trip, told Alfred I wanted him gone by the time I got back, and left for the airport two days early.

Now I found myself sitting on a bridge over the Seine river, my feet dangling over the dark water as I brooded. Sighing, I stood and straightened my blazer. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my worn leather wallet, a gift from my grandfather. I fished out a few bills, intending to pay a cabbie to take me back to the hotel. As I bent to pick up my bag, someone knocked into me, shoving me over the low stone wall that served as a guardrail for the bridge.

My bag spun out of my hands and into the sparkling water far below. I close my eyes and wait to feel the cold water close over my head. Instead I feel warm arms clasp around my hips and pull me back. My feet back on solid ground, I turn to see the concerned cerulean eyes of a Frenchman staring into mine.

"Mademoiselle, êtes-vous d'accord? Êtes-vous blessé? Ce qui s'est passé?" Shoving his arms off me I straighten my appearance in an attempt to remain in possession of _something,_ seeing as my bag was now at the bottom of the Seine.

"I don't speak your bloody language." I snap angrily and search desperately for my mobile or some money in my pockets. _Nothing._

"Excusez-moi, mademoiselle. Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm bloody fine except for the fact that my things are at the bottom of a river, I have no money, no passport, not even my bloody mobile, and am alone in Paris!"

"I have two tickets to Rome. Come with me."

"Wha- What?!"

"Come with me. I 'ave two tickets, yet no one to go with. You are stuck 'ere. We can contact your Embassy in Rome." I pulled my eyes away and blinked.

"Okay."

"Really?" The man sounded surprised, like he had doubted I would actually say yes.

"Yes. To you have a mobile or something I use quickly?"

"Oui. You can use this." He reaches into the pocket of his black skinny jeans and hands me a mobile phone. I take a few steps away from him before dialing Mr. Jamieson, my client's, number.

"Bonjour!"

"Hello, Mr. Jamieson? It's Amelia Kirkland, from the publishing office. I'm not going to be able to meet with you this afternoon. Just call the agency and they'll put you in touch with someone. Thank you for understanding. A few things have come up… Thank you again sir. Goodbye." I hang up and lowly dial the number for the flat Alfred and I shared.

"Hello?" A quiet voice answers.

"Hey, Alfred?"

"This is Matthew."

"Oh, hi Mattie. It's Amelia. Uh, is your brother there?"

"You just missed him. Is something wrong?"

"Yes. Lots of things. I dropped my bag in the Seine river, along with my passport, money and mobile. I would've fallen in myself if some French guy hadn't pulled me back. Anyway, said Frenchmen has just invited me to Rome with him, and I- I accepted."

"But what about your meeting?"

"I already called the client, everything's settled. Just, tell Alfie to call me, will you?"

"Alright. Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Not at all. I don't even know this guy's name, I just- I can't come back. At least, not until he leaves."

"Okay. Just, be careful."

"I will. Goodbye, Mattie."

"Bye, Amelia." I hang up and hand the mobile back to the blonde.

"Thanks." He nods. "Can I at least know your name?"

"Francis Bonnefoy. And you?"

"Amelia. Amelia Kirkland."

"We have about three hours till the train leaves. Can I buy you lunch?"

"Alright. Just no snails. Or frogs." He laughs and offers me his arm. I take it hesitantly and let him lead me down the street.

"I know a very good café in the area that does not serve snails or frogs. Though, when prepared properly, both are very good."


End file.
